And my alter ego is...

Snowy Owl...

Last time Mark and I were at Borough Market we picked up these Owl, biscuits. Buttery shortbread with chocolate button eyes and a half almond for a beak they were tasty and impeccably made to resemble myself on Thursday evenings.

If you like me are an Owl on the side, I would replicate them with any shortbread recipe, cut out in rounds and prick for the shapes. Shortbread is so quick and easy to make, my Brownies did it on our Scottish themed pack holiday, and you could easily do this in a meeting. This is my shortbread recipe, that I use regularly.

Super-easy Shortbread (suitable for Brownies)

Ingredients

4oz butter
2oz caster sugar
6oz plain flour

Method

Preheat the oven to 190 degrees C/ about Gas mark 5
Beat the butter and sugar together until smooth and fluffy (Brownies love doing this with electric beaters, but if you're on Pack holidays it's great fun to get them to do it in small groups with wooden spoons and race to see who can get there's to smooth and fluffy first!)
Stir in the flour spoon by spoon until you have a smooth paste.
Turn out onto your worktop/ table (make sure it's clean) and roll out until the past is 1cm thick
Cut out rounds/ triangles/ fingers (whatever you want really) and put on baking trays. If you're doing this in sixes, you can write the six name in pencil on the baking parchment/ greaseproof and it doesn't come off when cooking.
Now chill in the fridge for 20 minutes or so - it's this that makes shortbread really melt in the mouth-ish
Bake in the oven for 15-20 minutes or until pale golden in colour. Cool on a wire rack, and have with squash for threesies.

If you're going to decorate the shortbread to owls, then do so before cooking.

Just a quick post and run really as I'm working away this week. But

You've been Galindafied...

Elphaba: [downstage centre, practicing alone] Toss Toss [flicks hair] Toss Toss
Fiyero: [slightly upstage watching her. Moves downstage, grinning] You've been Galindafied! [...A beat... He mimics Galinda] Toss Toss! [Another beat. Sincerely] You really don't have to do that you know.

OK, so out of context it doesn't quite work - but if you know your musical theatre in general, and Wicked to be specific you'll know what I'm on about. If you don't. Go. Now. If you're in London to the Apollo Victoria, if you're elsewhere - investigate it! This weeked I did some Galindafying of my own. To pasta, not a person. And it didn't involve tossing. I'm not explaining this well am I? Galindafying, means to pretty something up, normally to make it popular, pink and sparkly. The end result being that one can hang with the right cohorts, be good at sports, and know all one needs to know to be popular a la Helen Dallimore or even Kristen Chenoweth (look them up if you don't know, you will be tested later)True story! Only I did it to pasta, just the prettying up however, I don't imagine that the ravioli is flirting with the fennel it's next to in the freezer.

Following the epic trip to Borough, we had decided that after a suitable rest and pot (or two) of tea, we would cook up a storm. One of us being somewhat cheffily disposed, the other more of a chuck it all in and hope for the best (that's me by the way, in case you were wondering) we figured that between the two of us we should be able to invent something without the aid of recipe books and merely with the ingredients we had purchased that very morning - there was method in some of the madness of our Borough shopping.

In actual fact, between us we managed to knock up a veritable feast, including the Galinda pink pasta! Which was actually, beetroot and goats cheese ravioli; sweet with enough of a bite from the goats cheese to not be overpowering. We also made pappardelle with a wild mushroom sauce, along with a fennel salad, and an amahzing dish of roasted figs with heather honey and creme fraiche (guess who was responsible for that one). I say we, seeing as the figs took around 45 seconds to prepare (my sort of dish!) I sort of hung around passing things helpfully, wiping mushroom and taking a highly overkeen interest in onions. I'm sensing a future as a Commis chef *sigh* At least I got an apron though!

Succeses of the day: Your author can now make pasta (see picture above), and chop onions like a real chef! I've even taken to making things with onions in just to demonstrate to the cats how good I am. Also figs can just be thrown in the oven and left for oooh hours before they spoil. Also Ratatouille is an epic film. Watch it. Anyone can cook. Never a truer word spoken.

This week the salty green sludge has been finished (thank the Lord, and don't mention the rest that's in the freezer, I'm going to try to deny it's existence until such time as I am so hungry to not care). Bread has not been made as the local supermarkets have taken to lying about their abilities to provide yeast. I am not happy about this at all. Note to supermarket bakery departments: You CAN give out fresh yeast to customers who request it. You CANNOT sell it to them however. For the love of God please read and inwardly digest before I completely lose my rag and start writing complaint letters. Lots of them. /endrant]

However, we can confirm that the seasons have definitely changed as the first batch of lifechanging soup was made tonight (although there has been a small, cream based hiccup with that; but I blame the meds, and being overtired). Speaking of which it's time for me to sign off. There are a few more piccies to add to this post, but they're on my phone as my camera was cleverly left at home at the weekend and I've not worked out how to move them from phone to computer. Yet. I'll add them as soon as I do just so you can see the Galinda pinkness of the ravioli.

Crappy cooking...

I'm having a week of it. At least the alliteration has returned, I guess that's something. No? Well, my back is bad again, I've resorted to Raul Esparza in Company to cheer myself up. I've also decided that "Marry me a little" if taken out of context has both the most beautiful sentiment and also is just stunning (although I concede Lauren, I hear the nasalliness - it's a word! - just before the final crescendo).

For the uninitiated... from 2007s amahzing Broadway production of Company... Raul Esparza singing Marry me a little (although I actually prefer "Being Alive" that would be too much of a tangent even for me!)

So crappy cooking, well it's more of a case of unattractive cooking. This week, I decided to make cabbage soup; I promise I'm not dieting, it's just the veg box people have decided to fill my box with brassicas - a one person box contained; broccoli, curly kale and a head sized cabbage. Nice. In my attempt to introduce some more vegetables into my diet (well you try being on co-codamol for 8 weeks and tell me how you feel!) and in response to the spat of chilly weather we've had this week I thought I'd make the soup I linked to here. In true thrifty, credit crunchy style I increased the quantity to use up all the brassicas, and froze half. However, I should probably have eaten some first. I'd also used my clearly honed cookery skills to know that adding some extra vegetables (carrots, broccoli, and cauliflower) would only enhance the flavour, and also substituted pancetta for bacon owing to the crapness of the local supermarket. However, that's a whole other post and the reason for the distinct lack of houmous in this one. But don't get me started. No, really don't.

Where was I? Oh yes, so I've merrily adapted the soup, and it looks, well, erm... green? So I decided to blitz it. Although not directed to in the recipe I thought it might perk it up a bit. So now I have well, erm... green sludge. With eyes closed and a deep breath I tasted some. Salty. Now, it's a family joke that I don't add salt to anything. But I do like the saltiness of things like bacon and marmite. We're talking sea salty. Oyster salty. And don't say potatoes, it already has potatoes in it. Not happy. In fact distinctly grumpy about the soup. But budget constraints mean it needs to be eaten. So far I've found that diluting the soup with boiling water before heating through tempers the saltiness slightly. Enough at least.

I decided that the soup needed bread. And I haven't made much (any?) bread since I moved into the new place. So last night I decided on my usual half and half loaf, with a few tablespoons of linseeds in (co-codamol again). Only I didn't think about the quantities I was using at all, just dumped them in the breadmaker and let it do it's job. And I ended up with a mishapen blob of bread. Nice. It tastes great. Yay! At least an improvement of the soup of DOOM there, but does look like the offcuts from a bakery or something.

So a week of crappy cooking... tonight I'm having Delia baked potatoes. Hopefully even I can't mess that up. Hopefully. And should I ever be able to find any tinned chickpeas, I'll post about houmous and pitta bread. Promise.

The weekend may hold some excitement, if the back permits I'm going on an outing to Borough market, so fingers crossed a report will be on it's way!